


i'm making you (sweat)

by LoveWithAGirl



Category: UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, Just Cowboy Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Trans Clayton Sharpe, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveWithAGirl/pseuds/LoveWithAGirl
Summary: “What’s wrong with you,” Clayton had groused, swatting at Aly’s hands and trying to squirm out of his pants without falling over, “I’m going to lie on the bed and wait for heatstroke to take me, m’not trying to invite it quicker.”That was a half hour ago, though, and he’d still responded eagerly when Aly kissed him, still said yes when Aly actually used his words and asked, still spread his legs when Aly had started kissing his way down Clayton’s body to lick him open even as he bitched about sweating through the sheets.
Relationships: Aloysius Fogg/Clayton Sharpe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	i'm making you (sweat)

**Author's Note:**

> I got in a mood three days ago, watched a lot of thirst trap tik toks, listened to a playlist i made for a different PWP fic i gave up writing ages ago, and voila! Shameless cowboy smut.
> 
> Shout out to the cowboy discord, i didn't tell y'all i was writing this but i hope you like it.

“What’s wrong with you,” Clayton had groused, swatting at Aly’s hands and trying to squirm out of his pants without falling over, “I’m going to lie on the bed and wait for heatstroke to take me, m’not trying to invite it quicker.”   
  


That was a half hour ago, though, and he’d still responded eagerly when Aly kissed him, still said yes when Aly actually used his words and asked, still spread his legs when Aly had started kissing his way down Clayton’s body to lick him open even as he bitched about sweating through the sheets.

“Oh fuck, Aly,” Clayton already sounds out of breath under him, and Aly loves that, presses his one hand to Clayton’s lower back and shifts enough to sink the last inch of his cock into Clayton’s cunt.

Clayton makes Aly’s favorite punched out sound, back arching and head tipping down between his shoulders. He looks perfect, on his elbows and knees under Aly on their bed, and if Aly wasn’t already sure Clayton would kill him for trying to drag the rest of this out he thinks he might try to bite some pretty bruises into his shoulders and back.

As it is, though, Clayton’s already clenching down around his cock, wet heat that makes Aly laugh and moan at the same time, a show of impatience that has him skimming his palm up along Clayton’s spine, fingers slipping through drops of sweat.

It’s summer and it’s so disgustingly hot that they have the windows open in an attempt to catch a breeze that probably won’t come, and fucking like this isn’t going to help any, but God help him if Aly was going to keep his hands to himself when Clayton is right here and all his.

“Aloysius Fogg,” and Aly smiles to himself at the snarl in Clayton’s voice, curls his hand around one of his strong shoulders and tightens the other around his hip, “I appreciate the sentiment of wanting to take your time, but it’s so hot out that the thermometer don’t work, and if you don’t fucking move-”

Aly chooses exactly that moment to pull halfway out before thrusting back in, hard, and Clayton curses a blue streak but drops the threat, instead letting his knees spread out a little more on the bed.

“You feel so damn good, sugar,” and he does bend down to press his mouth against Clayton’s warm back as he grinds his cock into him, feeling more than hearing the moan that rumbles out of his husband, “but if you want fast, then sure, I’ll give you fast.”

He thinks Clayton might be about to say something, familiar with the way he raises his head up, but Aly’s in the mood to keep being contrary, so he just tightens his grip on Clayton’s shoulder and repeats the same hard thrust. Clayton keens this time, dropping his head back down so Aly can admire the way his hair is already sticking to the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t hear a complaint, though, and so Aly sets that as his pace, hard, short thrusts that have Clayton making punched out little moans before long. He clenches down around Aly with every thrust, and it makes him moan and laugh and try to fuck in even harder, makes him try to get Clayton even louder.

They built their house purposefully where they wouldn’t have neighbors, and he wants to take advantage of the open windows.

“C’mon, sugar,” and Aly’s already out of breath but he squeezes Clayton’s shoulder tighter before letting go to curl his fingers in his husband’s long hair instead, “who’s gonna hear you, huh?”

Clayton whines and swears and plants his hands on the bed to meet Aly’s next thrust, fucking back against him enough to make Aly groan in delight before he can get his next words out.

“Sound so good when you’re taking my cock, Clay, let me hear you.”

Aly tugs on his hair once, short and sharp, enough to get Clayton to raise his head all the way, before loosening his grip again.

Clayton leaves his head up, facing towards the window, and Aly can pinpoint the exact moment he stops trying to be quiet. Hears the punched out moans get louder, hears Clayton’s breathing get more ragged, watches his back flex as he stops trying to hold himself back.

Aly grins to himself and then leans down to bite at Clayton’s shoulder blade, not anywhere near hard enough to leave a mark but because he wants to, needs to, too full of feral  _ minewantlovelustmine  _ and unsure what to do to get rid of it other than fucking like they already are.

The bruises he’s digging into his hip, with how tightly he’s gripping him there, are gonna take at least a week to fade, but Aly hasn’t heard a complaint from Clayton in the past three years about marking him up, so he doesn’t plan on stopping now.

“Fuck, Aly,” and Aly loves the way Clayton’s voice has started to roughen, loves the way his little whines are pitching higher, “m’getting close, you gotta touch me.”

Aly laughs, out of breath and close to orgasm himself, and tightens his grip on Clayton.

“You fucker, you know I can’t- _ oh god right there _ -can’t touch myself or I’m going, fuck, face-first into the mattress.” He panting and flushed down to his upper back and covered in sweat, and Aly has never seen anything so beautiful.

“Okay, baby,” Aly starts slowing, just enough that Clayton snarls and swears and risks falling just to swat a hand back at him, “I’ll get you there.”

He lets go of Clayton’s hair to knock his flailing hand away, and then he bends over and slides his arm under Clayton’s chest before bodily lifting him up, his back to Aly’s chest, until they’re both just kneeling up on the bed.

“Oh  _ fuck _ ,” and Aly can feel the moment gravity hits Clayton, feels him sink down onto his cock with a wet sound that has them both moaning low.

Aly presses his face to Clayton’s nape and rolls his hips to fuck up into him, keeping the arm around his chest to hold him in place. It feels like the temperature goes up but he doesn’t care, not when he can bite and kiss and  _ touch _ so much more skin.

The second Aly bites Clayton’s shoulder he seems to realize he can touch himself, and he watches Clayton reach down between his legs, feels him tighten up with a keen as he starts rubbing his clit.

“Fuck, Clay, yeah, want to hear you come,” and Aly can feel his own orgasm building up low in his gut, his balls drawing up and tightening, panting against Clayton’s sweaty skin as he holds him close and biting wherever he can between just trying to catch his breath.

It seems like barely a minute passes before Clayton’s suddenly stiffening against him, his head tipping back against Aly’s shoulder as he comes. He’s a long line of heat against Aly’s chest, a low whine rolling out of his throat as Aly fucks him through his orgasm.

Aly feels Clayton get even wetter around his cock as he comes and that’s just about the tipping point for him, has him panting and clinging to Clayton as he tries to keep his pace steady.

“Oh god, baby,” and he can barely get the words out, the room around them suddenly so hot that he feels like he can’t breathe, “can I come in you?”

It’s almost always a yes, but Aly still likes to ask, and if he doesn’t pull out now it might happen anyway.

“You fucking better,” it comes out more gasping moans than actual words, Clayton still in the middle of his own orgasm, but his free hand finds Aly’s on his chest and squeezes clumsily, and it’s like he pulls a trigger.

Aly comes hard, pulling Clayton down against his cock and just grinding up into him to chase the pleasure. His world narrows down to the punched out sounds Clayton’s making and the wet heat of his cunt around him as he fucks his come up into him.

He can’t tell if he’s making a sound, or even breathing, but it doesn’t matter when everything feels this fucking good.

After a long minute Aly feels everything in his body go loose, and he starts panting damply against the nape of Clayton’s neck, shakily rubbing his hand down Clayton’s stomach as he feels him starting to relax back into Aly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” and Aly just lets out a breathless laugh, pressing a kiss to Clayton’s shoulder and pushing his sweaty hair off his neck.

“Aloysius is fine.”

“I’ll ask them to put it on your gravestone, jackass,” Clayton reaches back to swat at his hip but doesn’t make any movement to pull away, and Aly greedily takes advantage of it.

He keeps kissing Clayton’s shoulders and slowly rubbing his hand up and down his torso, feeling the heat set in even more as Clayton settles more of his weight back into Aly’s embrace.

Aly’s cock softens enough that he can pull out of Clayton by just rocking his hips back, and he does it as carefully as he can, humming soothingly and bringing his other hand up to cover Clayton’s heart.

“Sap,” but the accusation is soft, and his husband brings his hand up to tangle their fingers together, wedding rings warm to the touch.

Aly smiles and tucks his face into the crook of Clayton’s neck, trying to ignore the dull ache of his leg growing as they stay in the same position.

“You’re cleaning the sheets.”

“Hey, how’s that fair?”

“You’re the one who wanted to fuck in the middle of the day during a heatwave, baby,” and Clayton is all sharp smiles as he slips out of Aly’s grip and rolls off the bed, but Aly can’t complain too much as he watches him straighten up and stretch his arms over his head, the sun highlighting all the bruises already forming.

“Besides,” and Aly looks back up into Clayton’s amused eyes as he starts to back up towards the bathroom, “if you promise you will, I’ll let you join me for round two in the tub.”

Aly can feel a smile already stretching across his face, and he shifts enough to stretch his bad leg out even as he starts to pull the sheet down the bed.

“Alright, sugar, you got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Title is from "Sweat" by All American Rejects, because i realized i forgot to think of a title as i was trying to post it and that song is on my playlist i was listening to and i thought it fit the bill!
> 
> Like I said at the top, I just listened to a playlist of random songs i find kinda sensual/sexy i guess as motivation to finish this lmao. I can link it here if anyone's really interested, but I promise that at least half of them won't make any sense. But! I hope you enjoyed the fic if you stayed long enough to finish it and make it to the notes.
> 
> If you'd like to, you can come find me and talk to me on [tumblr](https://lovewithagirl.tumblr.com/) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/daleytwin2/)


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